Opening Old Wounds
by MissMollyB
Summary: "When I return we'll have forever." The promise was still on his lips as she stood on the docks, watching the ship make its way out to sea, neither of them able to pull their eyes from one another. Finally, when had to redirect his attention to the task at hand, he blew her a kiss and waved, wondering again if he were a fool. My take on the woman before Milah. After 3x11 now AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer - I own nothing, wish I did, I'm not that cool. **

**I wrote this for all of you crazy CaptainSwans (dont' be insulted, I'm one of them), who has a dark secret - you don't really want Hook to be with Emma because you want him for yourself! I wrote this for everyone who would like to step into the story, so take "her" description and make it yours. :)**

**Also, I haven't completely worked out all the details, so this will take a little suspension of belief, please just go with it. But, I am open to suggestions! Also, not everything is 100% cannon because my imagination can't work around all the rules. If you're open to some fun and a lovey, romantic, squishy (maybe steamy down the road) good time, please read and review!**

**More is planned, this is just what I was able to crank out during a lunch break. If you have good things to say, I will keep writing. ;) I look forward to hearing from you!**

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_I imagine this taking place after S3, and what I'm assuming will only be more life-endangering craziness._

* * *

"So the only way to stop all of this for good is to find whoever is writing Henry's book?" Regina sounded exasperated, which was understandable considering everything they'd been through in the last few months.

Rumple simply raised his eyebrows and offered a cool nod in response. "I'm afraid so."

Snow looked defeated as she glanced up at Charming, who ran a hand through his hair. Emma, usually the first one to step forward when it come to protecting those she loved, took a small step back. "How in the hell are we supposed to find this anonymous person?" She asked quietly. "It's impossible." Her frustration showed in the slump of her shoulders. Neal attempted to comfort her by slinging an arm around her, but she shook him away.

He had been silent through the whole exchange, lost in the memories that came jolting back when Rumple spoke of finding a way to influence the author, the unseen force that had apparently been driving all of their fates since day one. The only way to end it was to find their puppet master and cut the strings. He dropped his head, studying his fingers which were absently twisting around his hook. The hard metal appendage was not a part of him the last time he'd seen her. He was a complete man then. He hadn't thought of her in years—hadn't allowed himself to after the pain he'd gone through. But this could be the end, he thought.

Finally, thinking only of the safety of Emma and her son, he set his own reservations aside. "I think I know someone who can help," he admitted with a sigh. Everyone's attention snapped to his corner of the room as they watched him, waiting, expecting.

Stopping his nervous twiddling he looked to them, surveying their faces. He had thought about backtracking, not wanting to revisit that part of his life, but this family needed him. Snow, Charming, Regina, Neal, Emma and Gold – they all needed him.

"It's not going to be easy."

* * *

_300 or so years before…_

"So this was your plan? To steal away in the middle of the night?"

He could hear the smile in her voice as she called to him from the dock. Her playful tone made him smile. He turned around to see her walking up the gang plank, her skirts swirling lightly around her feet with each gust of wind off the sea.

"And without even a kiss goodbye?" She reached out and took hold of the lapel of his leather coat as she approached, pulling him closer. She clicked her tongue at him, her voice dropping to a whisper, "Really, Killian, I'm disappointed." She looked up at him from beneath long, dark lashes, feigning a pout.

She was teasing him again. He always found her irresistible when she teased him. Hell, who was he kidding, he always found her irresistible. Somehow this delicate woman managed to break through whatever facades he'd raised to protect himself.

He reached out his hand to slide his fingers gently down her cheek as his other hand rested on the small of her back. "I didn't want to wake you, love."

Their faces where just inches apart, her green eyes flashing with each word. "You think I would have cared?"

His boyish grin widened as he moved his hand around to cup the back of her neck, pulling her in for a soft, lingering kiss, not caring whether the eyes of his whole crew were upon them. God how he'd miss the taste of her on his lips, the silky feel of her soft skin, the light scent of rosewater that rose from her pale, perfect skin. For a moment, he thought about canceling his voyage just to stay with her.

"No, I know you wouldn't have," he said as he pulled away. "But that's not the point." He kissed her gently on the cheek before moving from her embrace, knowing if he lingered too long, he wouldn't be able to fight his urge to stay with her. He walked to the helm and looked to the charts spread out in front of him. He tried to focus on the maps, the headings, anything that would allow him to clear his mind from the haze she brought to his thoughts.

She laughed softly as if she knew exactly what he'd been thinking.

"When will you be back?" She walked to his side, hooked her arm around his and leaned her head against his shoulder.

He glanced over at her as he answered with a sigh. "Two weeks, maybe three." He was about to turn back to his work when he caught the look in her eyes and was suddenly unable to pull away from those shining emeralds.

Another amused smile spread across her face. He was putty in her hands. She suddenly reached up and pulled him in for another kiss. It was different this time, stronger, almost desperate. She didn't want him to leave, either. She slowly pulled away and looked up at him. His eyes remained closed, as if trying to remember everything about the moment. "God, how I love you," he whispered gently.

"As I love you," she whispered in reply.

He reached up and grabbed her hand, glancing down at her fingers, and the ring he had placed there just last night: a thin band of gold holding a gem the same color of her eyes, framed on either side by the Fleur de Lis.

"When I return," he began, his thumb running over the stone, "We'll have forever."

She turned and sauntered slowly from his arms, knowing with every second that his eyes were following her and relishing in the power. "I hope so." She continued to walk toward the gang plank before she paused to call back at him over her shoulder. "Because you're going to miss me when I'm gone." She winked at him then before disembarking the Jolly Roger and throwing the hood of her cape back over her long, brown hair.

She stood on the docks, watching the ship make its way out to sea, neither of them able to pull their eyes from one another. Finally, when had to redirect his attention to the task at hand, he blew her a kiss and waved, wondering again if he were a fool not to cancel his plans. He knew she was right as he watched her shrink into the moonlight. He would miss her.


	2. Chapter 2

**For those few that are following - this if for you, I hope you like it. I have a lot more planned but I will be a little selfish and ask for reviews or more follows if you want to see more. I'm fine with just writing this for myself, but I am more than happy to share it if people are enjoying it. The more reviews I get, the more I'll keep giving you...**

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"How much farther?" Regina shouted ahead.

Hook didn't stop climbing, opting instead to shout back. "I'm not sure," he panted. "Never been here before."

Regina stopped and threw up her hands. "So this nature hike is just for fun?"

Hook rolled his eyes and let his head slip back in exasperation. "Regina—"

"Wait, is that it?" Emma's voice interrupted what would have been a sharp-tongued quip, one Hook was sure would have resulted in another regal tirade. Instead, he looked ahead to where Emma was pointing. Squinting through the trees, he caught a glimpse of the sun rolling across the top of the white marble dome.

"I believe it is. Temple of Helicon."

Hook stayed rooted in place as the rest of the group made their way up the mountain, deciding he would bring up the rear.

"Should have just let me poof us," Regina mumbled as she passed.

Once at the summit, the others stopped outside the shining white structure. Tall columns lined the perimeter of the large, circular temple and lithe, feminine figures danced along the friezes. The structure was designed to bring a sense of peace and hope to its visitors, yet Hook only felt the uncomfortable sting of fear in his chest. It was a feeling he quickly had to push aside and he saw the group waiting for him to take the lead.

He took a deep breath to steady himself for what might be inside. Centuries had separated them and she definitely would not be happy to see him. He didn't want to admit he was terrified. Terrified to see her again, and terrified of what looking in her eyes might do to him. He'd barely been able to admit his feelings for Emma, the last thing he needed or wanted now was to open himself up to more vulnerability.

He steeled himself once again before stepping into the darkness with Charming following close behind. No sooner had his boot heel clicked against the smooth floor than torches erupted around the cavernous circular room, illuminating the massive dome.

Snow stepped up to his right, confusion wrinkling her brow, "It's nothing but statues."

That Hook had expected. He quickly scanned the perimeter of the room, counting_. Nine. Damn._ He swallowed hard, rolling his chin to his chest as he squeezed his eyes shut tight. He was beginning to regret bringing them here.

Regina pushed past them, her head whipping around the room. "She's not even here?" Fury was evident in her voice.

"Actually," Hook sighed, "I was hoping she wouldn't be, but alas, she is."

Regina stared back at him, "You dragged up across realms – again – hoping _not_ to find this person? Might I point out you haven't even explained how you think she can help."

Hook stepped forward, reacting to the challenge in Regina's voice. "She _can_ help, she's the only one who can, actually. And I was rather hoping one of her sisters might be able to lead us to her. This little journey was a means to an end."

Regina looked poised for another cutting remark, but Snow's voice broke through the tension. The rest of them had fanned out around the room, examining the sculptures. "The Greeks definitely knew their art." Charming stepped up to her side. "It's exquisite. So lifelike."

Soon Emma, Neal and Gold had joined them. Regina and Hook's eyes remained locked, neither one wanting to concede.

"The Lovely and Beloved."

Hook's head snapped in the direction of Neal's voice. "What did you say?"

Neal glanced over his shoulder, "That's what it says here."

Hook walked cautiously to where the others were standing. They parted as he approached, giving him a chance to examine the sculpture for himself.

It was a woman lounging half on her side amid a bed of pillows, her head elevated slightly above the rest of her body. One smooth alabaster arm rested lazily above her head, fingers gracefully curled, the other bent at the elbow, her fingertips resting along her collar bone. Her long hair fell in waves around her shoulders, one strand draped across her chest. She could have been mistaken for sleeping had she not been made of stone.

_Please, gods, no,_ Hook thought. He was desperately clinging onto his last shreds of hope when he caught sight of her left hand. He turned and walked quickly away, hand flying to his mouth, unsure of whether he would be sick or sob. His mind was reeling with grief and regrets. No matter what had transpired between them he had never wanted this.

"Well we didn't come here for an art history tour," Regina quipped. "What now, Hook? Any other wild goose chases you'd like to lead us on?"  
She began to walk back toward the entrance when Hook's hand slid from his face, his eyes never leaving the ground. "She's here."

"What?" Regina whipped around, irritation evident on her face.

"She's here," Hook said again, his voice barely audible. "You're gathered around her."

Emma and Snow exchanged a concerned look, "It's a statue," Emma said.

Hook looked up. "Yes, I'm well aware of that, aren't I?"

"She wasn't always?" Neal ventured.

"Because I have a fancy for courting statuary?" Hook was growing tired of their disbelief. "The ring," he sighed, his voice gentler now, "I gave it to her on one of the last occasions we were together. A green amethyst flanked by two Fleur de Lis." He paused as the gravity of the moment settled upon him. "I'd know it anywhere."

Emma stepped forward to examine the statue. Hook had described the piece of jewelry in perfect detail. A person turning into stone? After all she'd seen, she was willing to go along with it. "So how do we wake her up?"

"That, love, I do not know." Hook's eyes travelled to Gold. "I was hoping you might know of something."

"Well it's impossible to undo when I don't know what caused it in the first place," Gold said.

"Oh come on!" Regina shouted. "You have got to be kidding me! We are going to stand around wasting time trying to animate a statue when we don't even know it'll help?"

"She _will _help us," Hook said. "She's a goddess, Regina, she's entirely good. Her whole reason for being is to help others. And she's the best person I've ever known."

"She couldn't have been a very good goddess if she ended up like this," Regina gestured toward the statue.

"Let's just say it runs in the family," Hook replied.

Emma just wanted the bickering to end. "How did you know her?"

"We were…acquainted several years ago."

"Great, a jilted ex-lover," Regina scoffed. But Snow had picked up on the melancholy in Hook's voice.

"Did you love her?" she asked gently.

A sad smile flashed across Hook's face as his eyes again traveled to the floor. "Yes, I suppose you could say I did. Very deeply, in fact."

"So what if you kissed her?" Snow asked hopefully.

"You want me to what?" Hook's tough, sarcastic wall went back up in an instant, along with one eyebrow. But Emma continued, stepping toward him in an attempt to boost his confidence.

"No, she's right. True love's kiss, right? She obviously felt the same about you or she wouldn't have agreed to marry you."

Hook looked doubtful. "She left me, love."

"And then kept wearing your ring? Yeah, I don't think so," Emma said.

Hook caught hold of the hope welling up inside him, attempting to push it back down. _Not after all these years, it couldn't be possible._

"It's worth a shot," Charming suggested.

Hook scanned the faces staring back at him, the hope in his eyes mirrored in theirs. But they had no idea what he stood to lose. Then again, he'd already risked so much for Emma, making a fool of himself by kissing a statue couldn't be worse. He walked slowly up to the figure, his mind wavering between going through with it and backing out with every step. When finally he was in front of the statue, he glanced again at her face. He felt the hope bubbling up inside him again and made that his focus as he leaned down and pressed his lips against the cold stone. He could swear he felt the marble begin to soften beneath him, but didn't let himself completely believe it. When he pulled away, he saw the stone flush with the colors of flesh. Then her eyes fluttered open and he found himself once again mesmerized by her emerald eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**A little more backstory, we're almost caught up, just bear with me. If you like it, if you hate it, please let me know. I want this to be better for you guys!**

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Her eyes were just beginning to adjust, but she had no trouble recognizing the handsome, roguish face that was watching her so eagerly.

"Killian?" Confusion coated her soft voice.

Hook wouldn't have believed it had he not just seen it with his own eyes. Overcome with a rush of excitement, he pulled her close for another kiss. Now they could start over.

Her hands flew between them as a shocked protest escaped her throat, she pressed against his chest to push him from her.

As he backed away, Emma thought she saw confusion and hurt flash across his bright blue eyes, but as quickly as they had appeared, they were gone, along with the hope that had filled them. His eyes darkened slightly as the cold indifference that was so often present settled in them instead.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position, her long, chestnut hair falling over her shoulders and settling around her waist. "What's going on?" she asked as she glanced around at the others.

Always the leader, Emma stepped forward. She'd hope Hook would handle the explanations and introductions, but seeing the tension that had settled into what Hook had clearly assumed would be a happy reunion, she was eager to move things along. "I'm Emma. Hook says you can help us, and I'm afraid we need a favor."

"Erato. But people usually just call me Era. And… Hook?"

Emma nodded toward the corner where he was standing, well away from the group, deliberately putting several feet between him and the woman he used to know.

Era turned toward him. It was like she was seeing him for the first time. Her eyes grazed over his form, examining him closely. The long leather coat she recognized, but he had taken to wearing all black. There were slight lines around his eyes, she assumed from spending years in the sun and the sea spray. He was also wearing chains of trinkets around his neck. Then she took note of the most different feature: the absence of his left hand, replaced instead by a shiny silver hook.

"What happened to you?"

Hook caught the concern in her voice, but he opted to protect his pride after her earlier rebuff. Everything he'd experienced in the last 300 years came rushing back at that moment. Everything he'd gone through she she'd left him.

"I've had my share of adventures," he answered. "But don't you think it's a little late to feign concern, love?" His mouth went up slightly in one corner.

Era's eyes narrowed slightly, but her anger quickly faded. She turned back toward Emma, a sweet, genuine smile on her face. "I'd be happy to help." She lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. "What can I do?"

Emma, still aware of the tension between Era and Hook, glanced to his corner. He was leaning against a column, eyes focused on the tip of his hook, which he was twisting in his fingers. He was trying to appear disinterested; instead, it looked like he was sulking.

"Well," Emma began cautiously, "It's kind of a long story. Point of it is, we need to track down a book and whoever is writing it."

"Alright," Era shrugged, "Not a problem." She pushed herself off the stone slab she'd be sitting on and onto her feet. It'd been a long time since she's used her legs, and she wobbled a bit when she transferred her weight from the slab to her legs. As if sensing her struggle, Hook straightened, but she held out her palm in a small gesture for him to stop. His concern faded and he returned to lounging against the column, hoping no one else had noticed his moment of weakness.

But Emma had. She'd honed her skills for too long not to pick up on the subtle nuances in people. A strong pull still existed between them, she could tell the way he sensed her movements and subconsciously responded to her like a magnet. Then there was the way he strained to ignore her. Hook never tried to hide his appreciation of beautiful women. Emma could see it in Era as well. There was something about her that appeared wounded every time she looked at him.

Regina stepped forward. "Forgive me for sounding doubtful," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "but would you mind explaining to me how you can achieve what we need?"

Era wasn't deterred by Regina's somewhat hostile attitude. Instead, she brushed off her flowing, deep purple robes, as if brushing off Regina's snark. "Sure. I'm a muse." When that explanation didn't seem to satisfy them she continued. "It's my nature to track artists and seek out those who need me. Once I find them, I'm able to exert my influence over their work. My particular specialty is writers. Well, epic love to be exact, but it's evolved over time."

Her explanation was so simple and delivered so sweetly, the others had a hard time swallowing it. She didn't understand the wondering looks on their faces. "Is everything ok?"

"So, you can make anyone do anything you want them to?" Snow asked.

Era tilted her head slightly in response. "Well, technically, yes, but it's not something we make a habit of. We tend to stick to the task of drawing work out of those who need us – those who are artistically blocked."

"Us?" Neal raised his eyebrows.

"My sisters and I," Era answered, gesturing to the statues around the room. "We all have a different specialty, music, history, etcetera. But it would appear I am the only muse currently living." She didn't sound sad or withdrawn mentioning her stone sisters. She'd simply stated it as fact. There was something about her that conveyed sincerity and innocence.

Hook watched her slightly as she continued to make sense of her gift for the others, answering each of their questions patiently. Eyes still downcast, he stole glances of her when he thought no one would notice. The cut of her robes highlighted every womanly feature, the nearly sheer fabric draping gracefully over her curves—curves that were more prominent than those of Emma, Regina or Snow and more generous in the areas that designated a woman. Her skin was still flawless, perfect in its golden-hued appearance. He noticed the way the torch light illuminated the gentle curves of her face, contouring around her cheekbones and along her slender neck. It reflected in her eyes and made them sparkle. The firelight also danced in her hair, highlighting golden strands that shone as bright as the sun. She appeared every bit the goddess she was. Awakening her had awakened feelings within him he thought were long dead, feelings he'd repressed every day that she had been absent from his life.

* * *

It was a bright May morning and the crew of the Jolly Roger was preparing to set sail. Killian was sitting at the desk in his quarters, preparing headings for the journey. It would be a short voyage, but lucrative. The cargo he had procured on the last leg was sure to sell at a high price when they made port. His mental calculations were halted by a wrap on the ajar door.

"Yes?" he called absently, still focused on his work.

"Captain Jones," the first mate began. "Someone here to see you, sir."

"Who is it McGehee?" Killian kept his eyes down cast. He wasn't expecting anyone today. He glanced at a pocket watch on the corner of his desk. He wouldn't have time for a lengthy conversation, they needed to shove away from shore before the nature of their cargo was discovered.

McGehee took a step forward, lowering his voice, "It's a young lady, sir." The smile on his face was evident in his voice. Killian's eyes rose to meet McGehee's, his head still lowered to his work. McGehee nodded excitedly, the silly smile still on his face.

Killian sighed and began gathering his charts into a pile. "All right. Tell her I'll be right out." He was more intrigued that a woman would be approaching his ship, let alone one that could be defined as a lady. He may be a pirate but he was still a man of honor, and honorable men did not meet with ladies behind closed doors, and certainly not in darkened ship cabins.

He stepped out onto the deck, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight. Surveying his surroundings, he saw her standing near the port side, her back to him. She was watching men unload giant bales of cotton at a neighboring wharf.

"How can I help you, miss?" he asked as he approached, a tint of annoyance coloring his voice.

When she turned to face him, his breath caught in his throat. Her long brown hair was flowing freely around her slender shoulders, the sides secured with a ribbon at the base of her neck, small stands twisting in the wind. She was wearing a simple silk gown of the faintest green, the color reminded him of the foam that crests on the waves in the wake of his ship. It was her eyes that caught him. They were a striking deep green like the color of emeralds. There was a strength and determination in them he'd never seen in a woman. She threw her cream cape over her shoulders and extended her hand to him regally.

"Captain Jones."

He smiled as he took her hand, bowing over it and brushing a soft kiss on her knuckles. "My lady."

He straightened slowly, but maintained a gentle grip on her hand. She promptly pulled it from his grasp and he smiled again. This one had fire.

He folded his hands in front of him, puffing out his chest slightly. "How can I help you?"

She blinked slowly as if to tell him that she was not impressed by whatever show he meant to perform. "I require passage. I hear you're traveling to the islands."

"Wherever did you hear that?" Killian raised his eyebrow playfully, feigning ignorance.

"I have my sources."

He took a step closer, but she didn't back away. "Ah, well, the nature of our journey is rather clandestine. I would be loath to ask how a delicate creature such as yourself would be acquainted with the nefarious men privy to such information." Killian had suddenly forgotten his haste to set sail, preferring instead to linger a while with this exquisite woman.

She raised her chin and met his eyes. "Captain Jones, do you wish to keep baiting me like one of the women in the pubs, or should I continue with my proposal?"

His smile widened and he raised his hands in surrender, laughing softly. She was a spitfire, and he was hooked. "Apologies, milady," he retracted his step forward.

She nodded to him, grateful to finally be on equal ground. "Thank you." There was sincerity in her voice this time, not challenge. "Please, sir, no other captains will accept a female on board. It's necessary for me to get to the islands as soon as possible." She reached for a small black purse that had been hanging around her wrist. She held it out until Killian held out his hand, then dropped the pouch into his open palm. "I can make it worth your while."

He opened the satin pouch to examine its contents – a small fortune in gold, almost as much as he expected to make from the sale of his cargo. She was willing to pay an exorbitant amount and daring enough to board with a crew of pirates. Cleary her need to get to her destination was urgent.

"Very well, miss. I accept your offer." He stepped closer to her again, this time to allow her to hear her lowered voice. "However, I am nothing if not a man of honor and I am obligated to point out the risk this journey would pose to your safety." She opened her mouth to counter and he stopped her with a raised hand. "But," Killian raised his eyebrows for emphasis, "You have a deal. We sail one hour past sundown. Wait at the top of the wharf and I will sneak you aboard. You will bunk in my quarters for the duration of the voyage and never step out while the crew is present. Understood?"

She looked surprised, but relieved. However, her brow was slightly furrowed in question.

"I can't protect you if they know you are here," Killian finished.

She was genuinely surprised by how little she had to persuade him for his acquiescence. Once her guard was down she noticed for the first time how devilishly handsome he was. Disheveled back hair and crystal blue eyes, a few days of stubble covering his chiseled chin. She shook herself from her thoughts and dipped into a shallow curtsy.

"Thank you, Captain." And just like that, she was gone.

"What was that about?" McGehee asked as he slid to his captain's side.

Killian watched the woman make her way back down the wharf and tracked her form as she disappeared into town. His fingers slid absently over the stain pouch in his hand, wondering if her cheek would be equally as soft. He could still smell rosewater lingering in the air around him.

"Have the men scrub the deck and recheck the sails," Killian said, ignoring his first mate's question. "We sail near sundown."

"Aye, Captain." McGehee retreated to shout his orders to the rest of the crew. Killian remained rooted where he stood. As much as he wanted to deny it, he very much looked forward to seeing her again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry this has taken so long, my life is a hectic mess right now. I have more scribbled down so I'll try to get that updated tomorrow. I also had to take a few liberties with the muse legend this chapter, so please forgive me. Hope you like it!**

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He looked forward to taking the helm at night, it gave him time to think alone after the crew had called it a day. He especially enjoyed the calm and the quiet, with no other sounds than the waves lapping against the hull. He stilled as he heard a door creaking on the deck below him. He craned his neck as soft footfalls padded against the deck. He froze when finally she stepped into view. The pale green dress he'd seen her wearing earlier that afternoon appeared silver under the moonlight. He watched silently as she crossed the deck and made her way to the starboard side. She pressed her hands against the railing and stared out into the darkness.

Everything about her was beautiful. He'd noticed her physical beauty during their first meeting, but the gentle fluidity of her movements had escaped him. She held her shoulders back and her chin high, gestures that would appear haughty on other women, but somehow it conveyed a silent strength in her. He knew of her confidence by her actions – she didn't show the slightest trepidation approaching a known pirate, let alone being the sole female on a ship full of men. She appeared afraid of nothing, yet she remained fragile, gracious and intelligent. He'd never known a woman to have such qualities, and gods knew she'd seen right through his ruse. He stood admiring her a moment longer before deciding it was bad form to observe a lady who believed she was alone.

"My lady," he called out softly. She turned, her eyes meeting his as she spotted him on the bridge. He raised a hand. "Apologies for interrupting your solitude, I didn't think it polite not to announce my presence."

She smiled sweetly and he felt encouraged to approach her.

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced," he said as he got closer. "Captain Killian Jones." He bent slightly at the waist in a small bow.

"Era," she replied, holding out her hand to him. He brushed a chaste kiss across it.

"Lovely name. Implies a wisdom beyond your years."

She laughed softly. "It's a family name, nothing more." She turned back to watch the gently lapping of the waves.

After a few minutes of silence, she glanced over her shoulder, eyebrows slightly raised in question. She knew he wanted to say something, he just wouldn't allow himself. He felt a heat spreading through his chest and face and forced himself to break away from her eyes.

"Well," his voice caught slightly in his throat but he quickly cleared it. "I suppose I should give you your privacy." He began to walk away, and was surprised when she called out to stop him.

"Oh, no, Captain, please. Do stay. I could use some company. I just stepped out to get a bit of fresh air."

He didn't want to leave her, but his sense of propriety won out. "My sincerest regrets, milady, it's simply improper for a man to be alone with a lady unchaperoned. Let alone in the middle of the night." Why was he so drawn to protect this woman? His own behavior was confusing him.

She glanced around. "What, with all of the eyes of society upon us?" She smiled that smile again that managed to make him feel like a man and a boy at the same time. "I promise, good sir, your honor is safe with me." She waved her hand sarcastically and placed it across her heart.

He raised his eyebrows, "Aye, my honor?" He cast his glance downward and sauntered toward her slowly. "Might I remind you, young miss, you are consorting with a known pirate?" He did his best to look dangerous, but she only laughed softly.

"I'll take my chances."

They remained like that for a while, leaning against the railing, staring out at the glassy water, sharing the silence between them. Eventually he spoke, "I regret that you have to stay in your quarters all day. I'm sure you would enjoy the sunlight." It was one of the first times that he'd spoken that she could hear the sincerity in his voice. In most exchanges, she could tell he was holding something back, always masking his true thoughts with sarcasm or seduction.

She shook her head. "Actually, I prefer the night. I enjoy the silence. It's more peaceful. It gives me time to think." He looked to her with a slight smile, and she moved to face him. "Besides, I'm just following Captain's orders."

"Sailors are a rough bunch, Miss Era. I can't fathom what may happen if they knew a woman was aboard." He leaned in closer to whisper, "I may have to stand guard outside your door."

One corner of her mouth went up as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. "That wouldn't be so bad."

With each passing moment he was enjoying their banter more. She surprised him at every turn: gorgeous, sweet and genuine; yet bold, confident and challenging. He found her not unlike the sea he loved so much, unpredictable and always in flux. He was lost in his thoughts when he suddenly became aware of her watching him, her eyes slowly tracing the outline of his form.

_Bolder and bolder, still,_ he thought.

He was slowly leaning into her as if drawn by a magnet when she spoke suddenly. "Tell me something, Captain." _And always full of more surprises._

He straightened. "Killian. Please call me Killian. I am not your captain." _But how I wish I were. _All at once he wanted to their exchange to me more intimate, wanted to hear his name on her mesmerizing lips.

"Killian, then." He was sure she'd picked up on his change of mood, she had proved to be one step ahead of him, yet she chose to ignore the intensity in the air. Her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed slightly. "What makes a man chase a life at sea?"

"That's easy, darling. Freedom."

"No," she said without missing a beat. "You're not after freedom. You're running." She was still looking at him like she was reading a book but her features softened. "You lost someone."

He snapped his head around to look at her. Without prompting she answered the question in his eyes. "I'm sorry. Men are," she sighed, "easy for me to read. Call it a twisted gift."

His gaze drifted back toward the water as he slowly leaned down on his forearms. "My brother."

Era bit her lower lip slightly. She regretted asking, she was always too forward, never thinking before speaking. "I'm so sorry. I've lost several sisters," she offered. "It's not much of a consolation, but I've always found that our losses play the biggest role in shaping who we are." She reached out and slowly placed her small hand on his forearm. "It's getting late. I should probably retire. Thank you, Killian, for keeping me company." Her fingertips trailed innocently to his elbow as she walked away. His eyes moved to where her hand had been just seconds before, the heat of her touch still on his skin.

"Will I see you again tomorrow by moonlight?" He called after her with a smile, though he kept his back to her.

"Perhaps," she called over her shoulder. "I'd say the odds are high being that it's the only time I'm allowed out by the captain."

Killian smiled to himself. He'd had limited experience with magic, and this was a spell of a different kind. She'd enchanted him without even trying.

"Alright, let's get going, then." Emma's voice pulled Hook out of his thoughts. He hung back as everyone began to file out of the temple. Era ambled toward him. She looked shy as she approached, unsure of herself, which was opposite of the woman he knew.

"You told them where to find me." It was more of question than a statement. Hook noticed a strange look in her eye but he couldn't distinguish whether it was sadness or hope. He shifted his weight from the column back to his feet, taking a small step toward her. Part of him ached to hold her, to stroke her hair and tell her how much he'd missed her. But part of him also remembered that this was the woman who broke his heart, dashed his hopes and left him standing alone in the home that they'd once shared. That single event had cemented his course to becoming the ruthless pirate that stood before her, no matter how much her presence in his past had swayed him from it.

"Yes, well, I'd actually hoped that I wouldn't find you here. I thought perhaps one of your sisters could be awakened and set us on your path."

She laughed slightly in disbelief. "Why wouldn't I be here? You know how this works." She gestured around the cavernous room.

"That I do," he said, traces of sadness in his voice. He looked down rather than at Era. "It was the best way I could think of to help Emma and her family."

Era misread the melancholy in his voice. "Emma," she nodded slowly. "Of course." Silence surrounded them as both refused to meet the other's eyes.

"Well," Era finally sighed. "I suppose I should return this to you." Hook glanced up as Era began twisting the ring from her finger. She held it out to him. "I apologize that it's taken so long." She dropped the ring into his outstretched palm and walked out the door. Hook looked down at the piece of jewelry that had once held so much hope for him, for them. It seemed to have lost its luster once removed from her finger. That hope had now been returned and he was left with only the bitter pain, as fresh as it had been all those years ago.

Hook was still bringing up the rear as they approached the wharf when suddenly, Era stopped in her tracks. He followed her gaze to the Jolly Roger as he passed her.

"What's the matter, darling? Lost your sea legs?"

There was hesitance in her steps as she moved forward. "No, I suppose I just didn't expect sailing." Era had no desire to step foot on that ship ever again. It held too many memories for her. But if this is what had to be done, then so be it. She'd just have to do a better job masking her emotions, especially around him.

Once on board, Hook wasn't surprised to see her assume her favorite post, parallel to the mast, leaning against the starboard side. She always was a creature of habit.

Snow slid her quiver from over her head and set it down next to her bow. "So, you said you can influence anyone, Era?"

Era blinked purposefully, pulling herself from her thoughts, "Hmm?"

"Your… muse thing. You said it works on anyone?"

"Yes, I can exert it equally over women and men, but we tend to focus our efforts on the latter." Somewhere behind them, Neal scoffed before returning to whatever work Hook has tasked him with. "As I said before, we all have our specialties. Clio handled history, Euterpe music. Mine is writers."

"Why men?" Regina asked. By now, Regina and Emma had gathered near Snow.

Era smiled knowingly. "Well, women really need help," she began. "You see, women, we're multitaskers. We are able to focus on more than one thing at a time and we are rarely distracted. Whereas men…" she tilted her head slightly to one side, her smile widening, "not so much. They have single focus. It's our job to pull that focus to allow the art to flow from them."

Neal attempted to mask a laugh with a cough. Era and Emma bother turned to him to deliver a look that would be expected between a misbehaving child and an admonishing teacher. Era turned back to Regina and Snow. "And because we know where that focus generally is, we look like this." Era brushed her hands down her outline, gesturing to her form. She dropped her voice slightly. "Muses would look more like Adonis or Achilles if it were women who needed help being artistic," she said with a wink.

Era was quickly winning over the rest of the group. Hook wasn't surprised that Neal and Charming had already been conquered, but he'd expected it to take a little longer with Emma, Snow and Regina. Emma and Era were already on the same page, merely hours after they'd met. And Regina, the hardest of them, also even seemed to have her exterior cracked by Era's powers. She was charming without effort. She made everyone around her comfortable and open.

"If you don't mind me asking," ventured Snow, "how did you end up in the temple?"

"She fell in love," Hook called, sauntering down the stairs haughtily.

"With each other?" Snow beamed.

Era and Hook exchanged a look, both watching, waiting for one another like a cat at a mouse hole.

When Hook finally spoke, there was a harsh edge to his voice. "Muses aren't allowed to love. They'll lose their gifts. Luckily, our Era here is strong. She managed to stave it off her millennia. Instead, ensnaring others rather than falling herself."

Hurt flickered across Era's eyes as he spoke, but she quickly blinked it away. "That's partially true." She turned back to Snow, who now wore a confused expression. "We do lose our influence when we fall in love. But it's a gift, meant to allow us to live a normal life. We also lose our immortality." Era took a slow, deep breath before continuing, choosing her words carefully. "However, we are urged to guard our hearts, to make sure the love we chose is true. When we give our love away foolishly and it's not returned, we turn to stone."

Snow easily read the pain on Era's face and stepped forward, placing a hand on her arm in a subconscious effort to console her.

Era laughed darkly. "That's not even the worst of it. We're stone, but we're awake in a way. The price we pay is watching the object of our love fall for another. We are cursed see their happiness while we suffer. When our love dies, we die."

Emma looked to Hook. His back was turned to him, but he was paying attention to every word and his shoulders slumped with what Emma guessed to be guilt.

Snow's hand went to her mouth. "That's terrible! Why would you be forced to endure that?"

"My mother was Aphrodite. She wanted us to have love, but not waste it. She always told us it was the most prized and precious commodity in the world, even on Olympus."

"Are all of your sisters stone?" Snow asked.

"They are now. Some fell victim to our curse, others fell in love and led happy lives. They got married, become mothers," Eras voice cracked as the word stuck in her throat, tears burning the back of her eyes. "They turn to stone at their death so people can pay tribute at the temple."

"So how long had you been that way?" Emma spoke up.

"I…I don't know. We don't really have a concept of time while we're under."

Hook turned back to the four women. "Come now, love. You must have some remembrance of the moment your heart broke," he placed unnecessary emphasis on the last word. He was goading Era, though no one understood why. What had happened between them that made him treat her with such disdain when he spoke of her with love just hours ago?

Era spun around and returned his glare with equal malice, but her voice was deceptively sweet. "Of course I do. It was shortly after you left." She watched as the blood drained from his face and his expression melted into shock. She had wanted to strike him the way he'd struck her and now she'd succeeded.

"What?" he whispered.

Era ignored Hook and turned back to the others. "If you will excuse me, believe it or not I find myself tired. I think I'll go lay down." Hook turned and watched her make her way toward the captain's quarters beneath the bridge, watched her disappear behind the heavy wooden door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Short update, I'm sorry. I have a bunch of scenes written, I just haven't connected them yet. Add in finals and moving across the country... updates may be slow coming for the next few weeks. I apologize, bear with me. Silently Tearful, this is for you! :)  
**

* * *

_It doesn't make sense, I went back. I never left her, so I couldn't have caused her curse. _Hook lay in his bunk, his mind swimming with questions and haunted with guilt. He couldn't have broken Era's heart; she'd been everything to him. She was the one who had disappeared without so much of a whisper of where she'd gone. But then, if she didn't still love him, he wouldn't have been able to wake her. There had to be something he was missing.

After hours of staring at the ceiling, he pushed himself up, not bothering with his coat as walked quietly from below deck. He needed a drink. As he topped the stairs, he was relieved to see her standing in her usual spot along the starboard\

side. She was leaning against the rail as he had seen her do so many times before, just staring out at the water. She called over her shoulder when she heard him approaching.

"Good evening, Killian."

"Era," he said flatly. He sidled up next to her, his back to the rail so he could watch her face. After several minutes of silence, he drew in a long breath. "I'm so sorry, darling."

Hook didn't look at her as he spoke, afraid that he might see reflections of the pain he'd caused her.

Era smiled and shook her head. His voice was gentle and calm. Era knew he didn't understand, but he didn't need to. She hadn't meant to hurt him earlier and she was determined not to do it again. "Don't be. You couldn't have known." The silence settled between them once again.

Finally, Hook turned to her. "I don't understand, Era. I went back for you. We got pinched and it took a little longer than I had anticipated, but I returned to you."

"I always had faith that you would. Every day I expected to see you walk through our door. It just wasn't enough for them." Hook knew she was holding something back. He'd spent too many years with her not to know her tells. He waited a moment before continuing.

"Are you sure – "

"Yes, Killian, I'm positive," Era interrupted. She turned her eyes to him. "How else would I know about Milah?" She turned back to the water. "And Emma."

He caught the disappointment in her voice. "Emma." So that's what it was. "There's nothing there, Era. Not anymore. If there had been I wouldn't have been able to wake you."

Finally Era turned her body to fully face him, her brow furrowed. "Yes, how did you, by the way? I've been curious about that."

"True love's kiss."

"True love's kiss?" She sounded doubtful.

Hook reached for her hand. "The only thing that's strong enough to break any curse. That's how I know you love me as I love you." He pulled her hand to his heart, forcing her to take a step closer. "We can start over, Era. We can be happy again."

She could feel this hope reverberating through the palm of her hand with every beat of his heart. She searched his clear blue eyes, easily finding the love and reverence he held for her. But there was too much behind those eyes that she no longer recognized, and she had to protect him. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and slowly slipped her hand from his grip.

"No," she whispered. "It's too late." She turned her attention back to the sea.

He stepped up beside her and leaned closer. "If there is something seeing you again has taught me, it's that it's never too late, love."

"It is for us," her voice was shaking, but she stood her ground. "Too much has happened, too much time has gone by."

He began to speak, but she held up her hand to stop him, her eyes more gentle now. "This is hard for me, Killian. I awoke yesterday feeling exactly as I did when I watched you sail away into the darkness all those years ago." She reached up to stroke his cheek. "But the man I loved is gone." She attempted to soothe his confusion by explaining more. "Your adventures, as you called them, have molded you into who you are, who it was necessary for you to become. I am so proud of you for doing what you needed to do and coming out unscathed, but it's made you darker. I loved Killian Jones, and I don't know who Captain Hook is."

He reached up and placed his hand against hers, pressing it closer to his cheek before curling his fingers around her palm and bringing her wrist to his lips. A dark heat was in his eyes as he pressed a kiss against her skin. "I assure you, darling, Captain Hook is much more interesting." Suddenly, the heat of his lips felt searing and she jerked her hand away.

"No."

"Oh, come now, love. I was only having a bit of fun." That familiar twinkle was his in eye, but that's all she seemed to recognize.

"Killian would never dream of playing games," she moved to walk away and he stepped into her path.

"You're right. My apologies. The last several years have colored me a bit differently, but I assure you I am the same man you came to all those years ago."

"Then prove it." Her eyes were harsh, but pleading. "Good night, Hook."

Era's final words hit him like a knife to the heart. After all he'd done to prove otherwise, the one person that mattered most now believed him to be a villain. She left him standing alone on the deck, wounded but determined to prove her wrong.

Meanwhile, Era stood inside her cabin, her back against the door. She hoped she'd made it clear enough. She couldn't go back down that road again because she could never risk telling him the real reason the gods saw his action as betrayal. It would hurt him took much, and he was already too broken. Era knew the reason behind the changes in him was to hide all he'd been through, to convince himself that he had come out unharmed. She'd always seen through is bravado and this was no different. But it was better to carry on as if there were nothing left between them and focus on the task at hand.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning everyone on board noticed the change in both Hook and Era. They acted like cordial strangers, carrying on as if nothing had happened. They avoided one another more often than not, only speaking or interacting when it came to the details of what may e ahead for everyone.

"So the first step is Storybrooke, then." Era pointed at one of the maps spread out on crates near the helm where everyone was gathered to examine them. "I can track artists easily, but who knows where that would lead and if we'd ever even find the one we're looking for. I need the book as an anchor."

Charming nodded, "Storybrooke it is then." Turning to Hook he asked, "How much farther would you guess?"

Hook's eyes avoided all of them as he keep them straight ahead. "I'd wager we're still about a day out when it comes to the borders of Olympus. After that, well, it depends on where we end up on the other side."

"And why can't we just use magic to get us home?" Regina asked.

"Because, dearie," Gold stepped forward, "the gods magic is much different than ours. Wouldn't want to set any sirens or other creatures on us, would we?"

"I'd say we've already got a siren of our own on board." Neal nudged Era playfully and chuckled at his own joke. Era smiled but rolled her eyes. Hook cast Neal a dagger glance. Eager to stop any more storms from brewing, Snow spoke up.

"Alright, then. A few more days isn't too bad. At least this time no one is in any immediate danger." Snow grasped Era just above the elbow and began to lead her down the stairs to the main deck.

"I know I'm just full of questions, but how does it work?" Snow asked. "How do you track?" Era smiled up at her as the two set to weaving repairs in a damaged net.

"Well, it's complicated. I can sort of sense when someone needs me. I just get this feeling. Then, I can catch glimpses of their thoughts."

"You can hear people's thoughts?" Emma sat down with them and joined in their work. "That's got to be terrifying. Especially with Hook."

Era smiled. "He wasn't always so bad. And no, I can't hear thoughts," she laughed softly, "just pieces. Enough to give me clues to lead me to them. Sometimes that feeling has been so strong it's pulled me across oceans. That's actually how I met Hook."

Snow saw this as a perfect opportunity to ask about the two of them, but Emma saw the speculation in her face and shook her head, signaling to her mother not to broach the subject. Instead she raised a different question.

"So that feeling leads you exactly where you need to go?"

"In a way. Once I can see a person it's much easier to tell if someone needs me, since I'm able to read them."

"Read them?" Emma asked. Hook had once told her she was an open book to him, now Emma was beginning to wonder if Era had taught him that skill.

Era put down her weaving to address them. "Everyone wears a color around them, like an aura as strange as that sounds. That color tells me just about everything about someone. It reflects their deepest emotions, the things they're hiding, the feelings they can't let go of."

Emma and Snow exchanged an uncomfortable look, which prompted a soft laugh from Era. "Don't worry, I don't make a habit of reading people unless I'm fairly certain they're the ones who need me… or if I really need something from them," she said with a wink. There was something about Era that put everyone at ease, even when they should have been slightly alarmed. Emma couldn't help but think that Archie might have some competition on his hands if Era decided to stay in Storybrooke. It was impossible not to love her.

"So that must be a great gift to have in a relationship," Snow leaned in closer, "What do these colors mean?"

Era glanced up from under her long lashes, a smile spreading across her face as she caught the meaning of Snow's question. She turned behind her to where Charming and Hook were standing at the helm.

"For example," Era began, "your husband is a dark blue, with little pulses of green. That means he is kind and confident with a great strength of character." She turned back to Snow. "But the darkness speaks to death and deep sadness. I'd say as much as he may deny it, there is much he regrets about his actions." Era took a deep breath and glanced back at the two men. "Hook on the other hand was a deep purple when I met him. Now all that's left is almost completely black." Her voice was so soft when she finished Snow and Emma could barely hear her.

"What's left?" Emma asked, concerned.

"Yes. Sadness and pain can kill the soul. Someone goes through enough, it eats them up inside." Snow and Emma could hear the deep worry in her voice and see it etched in the lines of her face. Era suddenly blinked, breaking her gaze. She glanced around the deck. "Neal and Gold, they are father and son?" The two were standing together at the bow, their backs toward the women.

"Yes," Emma answered.

"They are dark, too, but there is yellow breaking through. They must be heading toward some sense of understanding if not reconciliation." Era moved the net from her lap and let it fall to the deck as she stood. "A lot of broken men on this ship." She took one last glance at Hook. "Excuse me." With that, she disappeared into her cabin.

"If she can read all that about them, I don't even want to know what she can see on me," Emma mumbled, her attention still on the net.

"What's the story with her and Hook?" Snow was still looking at Era's closed cabin door with confusion.

"I don't know, but whatever it is... it's intense."

Snow shook her head. "The kiss wouldn't have worked if they didn't love each other." She turned to her daughter. "But they're acting like strangers, and she looks so sad every time she talks about him."

Emma looked up. "Why are you asking me?"

"You're good with people, I thought maybe you picked up on something."

"Not any more than you did."

"Well, it's obvious there is more to all of this. Either way, they belong together. They're the two most passionate people I've ever met. They both seem so alive and totally in every moment. I wonder what happened to them to put them at cross purposes."

* * *

Era was placing the last pin in her hair when she heard a knock at the door. "Come in."

Hook stepped inside the surprisingly illuminated cabin. It was never this light when he occupied it; the sun seemed to follow her wherever she went. That's when he noticed her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed – his bed – her back to him. She was gazing out the small window while she twisted a final stand of her long hair into place. She had weaved it into an intricate braid around her head, the bulk of it bunched into a bun that looked remarkably like a conch shell. He always loved it when she put her hair up…

He cleared his throat to announce himself and she turned over her shoulder to smile at him. _Damn that smile. _"May I?" he gestured toward the still open door.

"Of course." Era swiveled around to face him but didn't get up. Hook gently pushed the door until he heard the latch click. When he turned back to her she was watching him expectantly. He'd seen that look before, but things had been different then. He fought the urge to rush toward her, occupying himself instead with trying to appear casual. He shoved his hand into his pocket and leaned against the wall.

Era's smile spread as she gave a tiny shake of her head. "Come sit down." She nodded her head slightly to indicate the bed. He glanced around the room at his desk, his chair, all of the other places he could sit before finally taking her suggestion. He could talk to her without being disarmed, he told himself. He just had to put his walls back up.

"You know, I always loved it when you put your hair up."

She tilted her head slightly. "You did? I thought you preferred it down?"

"I like it well enough. It's just that up always gave me better access." His eyes shifted to her neck and she laughed, blushing slightly.

"Always the charmer, aren't you, Hook?"

His eyes darkened slightly. "I wish you wouldn't call me that."

Era looked down into her lap briefly, then back up at him, trying to change the subject. "Remember that day we spent on the beach?"

The memory lit up his face as he chuckled, making Era thankful she still had the ability to make him smile. "Santorini, of course." He pulled on one of the chains around his neck, slipping it out from under his shirt and revealing a small piece of lace he had tied into a round knot. "How could I forget?" he added with a wink.

Era grabbed the chain and examined the piece of cloth more closely, pulling him nearer with it. "I can't believe you kept it."

"A pirate always keeps a token of his conquests, love."

"Hardly a conquest." She rolled her eyes and released the knot. "What about that week we spent in Charlestowne? We flitted around acting respectable, even when to that fancy ball at Hibernian Hall."

"As I remember, that night almost ended in a duel."

"You've always been a little dramatic. It was just one dance."

"It wasn't the dance that I took issue with, as I recall. It was his hands."

She pretended not to hear his last comment. "And then we got caught in the rain and had to duck into that alley. And we still got soaked to the bone."

He laughed again as his mind drifted back to that day. "You looked so beautiful. You had tiny little yellow flowers in your hair and your dress was the slightest shade of pink. It's the same color you blush when – " he stopped himself before he went too far and cleared his throat. "Well, it's one of my fondest memories, anyway."

"I can't believe you remember all of that." Era's expression was soft and melancholy.

"I remember everything about you."

Era swallowed and turned her head, wishing she could turn away from the memories. "Well, you didn't come here to reminisce about the past. What did you want to talk about?"

Hook had actually been enjoying the direction their conversation had been going. It was one of the few times that he had been able to think about her without drowning his sorrows in rum. It was nice to relive some of those moments with her. "Have you given any thought to where you might lodge when we make port?"

"In Storybrooke? No, I guess I haven't." Era pursed her lips slightly. "But, knowing Snow, I'm sure she'll extend an invitation."

Hook's eyebrows shot up. "Yes, a flat not much larger than this," he gestured around the cabin with his hook, "with four adults and a child. Sounds appealing."

"She's just being kind. Besides, I doubt we'll be staying there long." When her eyes traveled back to him, she noticed that look again, like he was waiting for something, she just couldn't put her finger on it. He used to give her that look every time he returned home from one of his trips, a parcel he'd brought just for her hidden behind his back. He'd practically made her beg for her gifts, then beamed brightly as he watched her open them up. What he was waiting for from her this time was something she couldn't give him.

Finally he broke the silence. "The princess is very kind, I just thought you might be more comfortable here." _With me._

"Here?" she asked. "Of course, because that wouldn't be awkward for either of us."

Something in her voice angered him and there was an edge to him as he replied. "Apologies, I merely thought private quarters would be more comfortable for you."

Era caught the animosity in his voice. "I didn't mean it like that. It's just that this is hard enough already. Why make it worse?" She glanced down at her lap. "Why are you really here?"

"Honestly, love, bunking down aboard the Jolly may be more peaceful for you." Era looked up at him from under her long, dark lashes, challenging him. Hook signed heavily. As always, she'd seen right through him. "And I thought it might give us a chance to get to know one another again. Catch up, if you will. I had hoped we could at least be friends."

He was completely genuine in his words, no trace whatsoever of the pirate she'd met in the last few days. Era agreed, they should at least try to be civil for the sake of the mission, but she couldn't let him in again. Suddenly she stood from the bed as if it had burned her.

"No." Hearing the harshness in her own voice she winced slightly. "Thank you for the offer, but I can't stay here."

He rose to meet her, but she crossed her arms in response, trying to steel herself against his charms and the pure kindness he was showing.

"Era, I've apologized time and again. What more would you have me do?" He softly gripped her arm, his thumb running mindlessly over her skin.

"I want you to stop apologizing. You've no reason to. And I told you, too much has changed."

He reached up and placed a hooked finger under her chin, raising it up and forcing her to look him in the eye. "Then tell me you don't still love me," he pleaded.

Era began to feel her resolve melting. Their faces were mere inches apart, she could feel his breath on her cheek and the heat radiating from his body. But it was the raw longing in his eyes that threatened to undo her. She closed her eyes tight against the assault of emotion and bit her bottom lip slightly. "That's not the point." She walked from his grasp and out the door, hoping that being out on the main deck with the others would effectively end the conversation. But she was wrong.

Hook seethed inside the cabin for a moment before storming after her and shouting, "What is it that you want, then? If it's begging you're after, you'll be sorely disappointed."

Emma, Neal, Snow, Charming and Regina all looked up and turned toward the commotion, unsure of what they had been brought into but sure it's not where they wanted to be.

Era turned back toward Hook, furious that he'd made their struggle public. "I don't want anything from you. What's done is done."

"So you intend to hold it over my head that I feel in love again? I thought you'd left –"

"I'm not angry with you for that!" she interrupted. "That's what I wanted for you. Yes, it hurt like hell to watch, but I wanted you to be happy." She turned to walk away again, her tempter boiling just below the surface."

"What is it then? How should the supplicant appease the goddess?"

The blatant sarcasm dripping from his voice made something in her snap. She turned sharply so she could see his face when she delivered the blow.

"We had a son, Killian," she practically screamed, her voice cracking and her eyes filling with tears. "_That_ is why I cannot bring myself to forgive you."

Her words hit him like a blow to the stomach. His eyes widened as the blood drained from his face. He was rooted in place, still reeling from the weight of her revelation.

Era sobbed softly, shifting dramatically from fury to defeat. "We had a son," she said again, softly this time. "He was ripped from my arms minutes after he came into this world, and seconds later, I was stone." She looked down at the planks beneath her feet. "I don't even know if he lived or died." Tears were streaming down her face as she stood there, breaking before his eyes. Everyone else stood in shocked silence as Hook rushed to her and gathered her up in his arms. He held her tightly, her cheek pressed against his chest, as if she may literally fall into pieces if he let go. He said nothing, just held her as she sobbed, pressing soft kisses into her hair. She needed him, and he was determined to be whatever she needed. He would not let her down again.

When her sobs quieted, be asked the one question he needed answered. "Why didn't you tell me, darling?" His voice was more soft and gentle than Era had ever heard it.

"I didn't know," she whispered. "I found out after you'd left… and I had no way to tell you. I'd expected you to come home."

Hook tucked his face into the back of her neck, burying himself in her, trying desperately to hold back the tears that were stinging his eyes. This was the betrayal the gods had punished her for – the unrequited love between father and son. _Will my torment ever end?_

Snow, Emma, Charming, and Neal watched the couple with sorrow, desperate to bring them comfort any way they could. The exchange had even softened the expressions of Regina and Gold. After several minutes, Snow slowly approached the pair and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. Era turned to look at her, not moving from Hook's embrace, and gave Snow a small smile as thanks for her show of support. The other moved up behind Snow, silently offering their condolences. They all remained in silence, Era and Hook still clinging to one another, until finally she looked up at him. He understood exactly what she needed when their eyes met.

"Let's get you to bed, love." Hook sounded exhausted, drained physically from the flood of emotions. He unwrapped his arms from around her and led her back into her cabin, his hand on the small of her back. Once inside, he helped her into the bed and gently placed a blanket over her. She'd not said a word since her confession on deck, and now it appeared she didn't know how. Her eyes were open, but empty, staring blankly in front of her. Hook moved to leave when he heard her small voice behind him.

"Please stay with me." His pieces of his broken heart shattered again at the desperation and the loneliness he heard. He wasted no time in sliding onto the bed next to her, opening his arms as she curled into him. Hook placed his arm around her shoulders and stroked her hair. They fell asleep clinging to each other like two people who had lost everything.


	7. Chapter 7

**Fluff, fluff, fluff. Hope you like it! I'd love to hear what you think about their "relationship."**

**Oh, and I was in kind of a hurry to publish, so I hope there aren't too many typos. **

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The next morning, Hook found himself sitting at her bedside, his head in his hands. Era was still sleeping, no doubt exhausted from the emotional day that they'd had. It'd been nearly twelve hours since he felt her breathing slow and her body relax as he held her against his chest. Still, he didn't want to wake her. She looked so peaceful in sleep and the last thing he wanted to see was tears clouding her deep green eyes. He brushed a stray piece of her hair from her forehead and decided he needed a drink. He had started cutting back in Neverland in an effort to be more present for Emma, but he was sure even she'd understand his need for a little numbness in this situation. He bit the cork on his flask ad pulled it out, letting it fall onto the desk beside him before taking a long pull from the bottle. The liquid seemed to burn more than he remembered, but the sweetness that lingered awoke another memory – one he'd shared with Era in the islands just days after their first meeting. He took another drink and began to wonder why he thought giving it up had been a good idea. It'd helped him forget for years, and it'd served him well.

A soft knock at the door jolted him from his musings. He opened it to find Snow, Emma and Regina. He was momentarily surprised by the presence of the queen, but then remembered she'd nearly lost her own child. She was simply one woman showing compassion for another.

"How is she?" Snow asked softly. They moment he'd opened the door, she had been taken aback. Hook, always so effortlessly handsome and pulled together, looked haggard. His hair was mussed and he was still in yesterday's clothes. His beard was thicker and the dark circles under his eyes accentuated the lines of his face. Snow thought he'd aged ten years in a night.

Hook moved aside and opened the door a bit wider to allow the women a glance inside at Era. "Still sleeping, but I can't bring myself to wake her. At least in sleep she can forget."

"Is there anything we can do?" Regina was wringing her hands. The worry conveyed in that gesture almost made Hook smile at the sweetness she'd always managed to hide before. He sighed and stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

"I don't know how to help her." His dropped his head in shame – shame that he'd been the source of such pain to her, and shame for not having the first clue how to comfort the woman he loved.

Snow pulled him into an embrace. "Honey, none of this is your fault." Under different circumstances, Hook would have bristled at being addressed as a child, but he found Snow's unwavering instinct to nurture comforting. "Trust me, she knows that, too. This is the gods cruelty, not yours."

He felt the unwelcome sting of tears welling in his eyes as he pulled away. "I don't know how to comfort her. I don't even know that I can."

"You can." Snow emphasized her assurance with a smile. "She'll need you more now than ever."

"Just be there for her. Listen," Emma added. "It will take time, but she'll start to heal."

Hook heard a noise inside the cabin and turned slightly. Snow reached out and squeezed his hand gently. "If either of you need anything, please tell us."

Hook nodded to them in thanks before going back inside. He saw Era sitting up in bed, gazing out the small window. Before when he'd seen her staring out at the sea he'd wondered what she had been thinking. Now he knew. She turned to him when he got closer. "Do you have a drink?"

Hook smiled slightly before picking up his flask from the desk. "Do I have a drink? Now, what kind of a pirate do you take me for?" His heart leapt when he saw a small smile build on her face. He handed over the flask and watched her dip her head back and set to emptying the contents. He looped his hook around the neck of the bottle and pulled it from her lips.

"Easy there, love. You don't want to feel worse."

"I don't want to feel at all," Era answered flatly.

Hook looked at the floor briefly before flicking his eyes back to her. "Yes, well… let's try to get you feeling a little better, shall we?" He rolled up his left sleeve and pushed up the other, then removed his hook and placed it on the desk. He tapped her gently on the back of the shoulder as he sat behind her on the bed. "Turn around, now, love." With Era facing the wall, he went to work removing the pins from her now tousled hair. She'd slept peacefully, hardly moving in fact, so her creation was still intact. Just a few strands were starting to come loose. Gently and carefully, his fingers worked through the intricate loops and folds, pulling out one pin after another, sending tendrils cascading down her back. He could imagine her weaving a daughter's hair like this. She would revel in it. He could almost see her seated behind a girl with raven curls, giggling as mother and daughter shared secrets. Then his mind traveled back to their son. He wondered what she would have named him. He hoped he'd had her eyes.

"I called him Tristan," she said as if reading his mind. His fingers tilled momentarily as she spoke. "I thought Tristan Jones had a nice ring to it. Strong, simple, but maybe just a slight element of danger." She paused momentarily. "He looked so like you." Her hair was now completely loose. He looked around but couldn't see a brush in sight. Instead, he gently combed through it with his fingers, enjoying the silkiness of each strand and the scent of rosewater that brushed his nose. "He had a whole mess of black hair, and gorgeous clear blue eyes." He could hear the smile in her voice thought it was tinged with sadness. "And I swear he smirked at me…"

Era leaned back, coming to rest against his chest. She rolled her head back against his shoulder. "But maybe that was just wishful thinking." He could see the tears pooling in her eyes as she stared blankly at the ceiling. Then he remembered Emma's advice. He wrapped both his arms around her waist, letting her know that she was safe, that it was okay to let go. One tear rolled from the corner of her eye. Hook quickly wiped it away.

"Maybe a hot bath would help you feel a little better, my love." He realized what he'd said too late, but she didn't appear to notice. She just sighed.

"That might be nice," she said softly.

Hook grasped her hand and brought it to his lips. "As the lady wishes." He flashed Era a sweet, sincere smile as he slid from the bed and out the door. He returned a short time later and pulled the hip bath from a corner to the center of the room before pouring a seemingly endless stream of steaming water from a bucket. He looked to Era with raised eyebrows. She was watching him curiously. "Impressive, eh? I had Regina enchant it." Once the tub was full, he placed the bucket on the ground near the door. "By the time I would have fetched enough water, your bath would have been cold." Hook walked to where Era was sitting on the edge of the bed and held a hand out to her. She accepted his help standing and he walked her to her bath as if he were escorting her to a ball. When they reached the tub, they both looked at each other awkwardly. Era dropped his hand and looked down shyly.

"Would you mind stepping out?"

Hook surprised her by responding more like a parent to a child, concern written all over his face. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

Era ran a hand through her now loose hair in a mindless effort to break the tension. "I think I can manage," she said with a smile. Hook turned to leave and she called to him as his hand twisted the knob. "Oh, and Hook?" He looked at her over his shoulder. "Thank you," she finished. They smiled at one another before he took a slight bow.

"I'll be just outside if you need anything."

Era sunk into the hot water, melting into the tub as more of her body became submerged. She was disappointed and angry with herself. How could she have told him? And why did she have to do it so harshly? She hadn't broken it to him gently, she'd used it as a weapon to scar him even more. She knew full well what she was doing at the time; she had let her emotions get the best of her. Era was disgusted with the person that she'd become. And now, more than ever, he was treating her with unwavering kindness. She didn't deserve it. _I don't deserve him._ It was like a slap in the face. She was spending all of her time mourning for her lost child without giving a thought to how he felt.

Era scrubbed soap into her hair and sunk beneath the water. She had to pull it together; she had a job to do. She heard a muffled knocking from under the water, so she sat up and ran a hand over her face. Hook cracked the door and called in.

"Everything alright, darling?"

That's when Era noticed the temperature of the water had gone from steaming to tepid. Suddenly, she was cold. Apparently she had been stewing in her misery longer than she thought.

"Fine, but…" she called back, "I could use some help."

Hook still kept himself behind the door, communicating only through the slightly open door. "Shall I fetch one of the ladies for you?"

She smiled at his ever-present steel hold on politeness and moral propriety – good form, as he called it. No matter the circumstances, it never wavered.

"No, it's fine," Era said. "Let me just, uh, find something to cover up with." She glanced around for anything she could reach, finally settling for a washcloth. She positioned it over her chest, holding it in place with both arms, and called back to him, still waiting patiently at the door. "Alright. Come in."

Hook couldn't help but smile when he saw her, half submerged and desperately trying to cover her décolletage, which was peeking out from under the washcloth. "I seem to recall seeing you in less than that," he said playfully, rubbing the beck of his neck.

"You're the one who offered to send in one of the women." Era cast her eyes down. "Besides, things are different now."

"So they are," Hook replied in a near whisper. "How can I be of assistance?"

Era, one hand holding the washcloth in place, ran a hand over her wet hair. "My hair. I can't tell if I've gotten the soap out."

He linked his hook under the bucket's handle and stood behind her. "Lean back, love."

Era did as she was told and Hook slowly began pouring the clean, hot water over her head and down her back. Her hair slicked into a chocolate-colored waterfall as the water ran over her, smooth and glassy. He noticed the gooseflesh on rise on her skin with the addition of the hot water. "Your bath has gone cold. We should get you out of there before you freeze." He put the bucket down beside him and ran his hand over her scalp and down her back, wiping away the excess water. "There, that ought to do it." He handed her a towel.

"Thank you."

Hook turned his back to her as she stood from the tub. He listened intently as the water slipped down her body as she stood, straining to hear every tiny droplet. Then he heard her speak.

"I'm sorry."

"For?"

"For telling you the way that I did. Actually, for telling you at all." He could hear the conflict in her voice and knew she was struggling. "I didn't want to put you through more loss. You've already experienced so much grief." He knew she could read him, she had proved that the first night they met. There was no keeping secrets from her. But he couldn't fathom what she must see now, all of the things that he'd drank away or numbed by forgetting. Whatever it was, it was enough for her to deem him fragile. "You can turn around now."

She was dressed once again in her temple robes, squeezing as much water as she could from her hair.

"I'm glad you told me. I would never want you to have to shoulder this alone."

Era smiled slightly. "You always were the gentleman."

"And always will be," he corrected.

"You would have made an amazing father."

_Would have made. _ His mind traveled back to a time when they had talked about parenthood in terms of a certainty, not 'would haves.' Era sensed the change in him and immediately regretted her lapse.

Hook cleared his throat and moved to the door. "I'll leave you to your privacy. Let me know if there is anything further I can do." He closed the door gently behind him, wishing he could just as easily close the door on his feelings for her.


End file.
